Betrayal is a Symptom
by SarkLover
Summary: What happens when Simon finds out who Sydney really is? And how will she save her life? eventually ss
1. Offers

Title: Betrayal is a Symptom  
  
Author: SarkLover89  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned Alias there would be some Sarkney. If you're smart, since there isn't any S/S action going on you'll figure out that I don't own the show!  
  
Setting: S3. 'A Missing Link' this is after they complete the mission.  
  
Summary: Simon doesn't take very well to betrayal. Of all kinds or by anyone.  
  
A/N: This idea just came to me... tell me if you like it! Thanks go to my betas-GabsHardy and jillybug03 at sd-1.com... thanks you guys! Mrs. Curls: I'll try and send you the next chapter if you're not busy!!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
**Can't take back what you said long ago.  
  
No time for apologies I know  
  
Don't be denying it.  
  
Then we've had it all.  
  
I'm waiting, trying,  
  
I keep holding on...**  
  
~Rufio, Countdown~  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter 1: Offers  
  
The car ride was bumpy. Looking around her, Sydney realized that this was not the direction they had taken on the way to the facility. Simon's safehouse was north of them, and they were going south.  
  
"Hey Simon? Where are we going?"  
  
He turned around in the passenger seat to give her a smile. "Just a little stop on the way, babe. Nothing to worry over."  
  
Sydney wasn't reassured. Something was up, but she knew that she wasn't going to get anything more specific from Simon. Instead, she turned her mind to the mission. Sydney hated it when she came that close to ruining the objective and when she was working with Simon she knew that she had to be more careful. At least they'd gotten out of it alive.  
  
Sydney thought back to earlier that day when Simon had introduced her to Sark. Well he had *thought* he'd introduced them, but then again, he *thought* a lot of things. For someone who worked in this business, he sure didn't seem to do detailed background checks on people he worked with. That helped Sydney.  
  
But that wasn't her problem. Sydney's problem was with Sark. Why hadn't he blown her cover? He had everything to gain. How long had they been trying to kill each other? Longer than 3 years, at least. Revealing her alias would certainly guarantee her death so why the hell hadn't he said anything?  
  
She left that thought for later as she felt the car stop. There was no visible house or forest where one could be hidden; all that lay around them was desert.  
  
"Well I suppose it could be underground," Sydney muttered as she hopped out of the jeep.  
  
"Did you say something, babe?"  
  
Sydney looked at Simon. "Nope. But just out of curiosity, why are we here?"  
  
Simon laughed. "I could ask you the same question. But we'll let your 'supplier' do that for us." He motioned to a man in a car Sydney hadn't noticed before. A thug got out, bringing someone else with him. Sydney bit back a yell when she realized who it was.  
  
She turned to P(rez. "Javier, what's going on?"  
  
His eyes were flashing. "You claim this man is your supplier? Then why does he have CIA issue equipment?"  
  
"I... Si, you know I wouldn't betray you!" Sydney stammered.  
  
"Julia wouldn't," Simon spat, "But CIA Agent Sydney Bristow would."  
  
Sydney tried to remain calm. How the hell did he find out and how was she supposed to get out of this?  
  
"Wait, Simon! I can explain!"  
  
"Well I'm not giving you a chance to. I don't want to hear it!"  
  
A shot rang out in the night and Vaughn slumped over, clutching his arm. Sydney turned away as the second shot rang out; she couldn't watch him in pain. After the third shot Simon turned to her and took out his own gun.  
  
"And now for you."  
  
"Simon don't do this!"  
  
He smirked as his finger pulled the trigger. Her shoulder exploded with pain, then she felt something hit her head and everything went black.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sydney awoke with a pounding headache. She touched the bump on the back of her head as everything came rushing back. Vaughn, Simon knowing who she was, Vaughn getting shot, three times, her shoulder. Her fingers found the wound; it was neatly wrapped and no blood showed through the gauze. How long had she been here?  
  
The door of her cell opened and P(rez came in. He was carrying a tray of food and set it down in front of her.  
  
"Eat." He made to leave but Sydney reached out to stop him.  
  
"Javier! Tell me what's going on!"  
  
"I cannot." He looked strained.  
  
"Come on, it's me. Julia! You can tell me anything."  
  
"No. It is not you. I do not know who you are, Sydney Bristow. All I know is that you betrayed us all. And I know that Simon does not take well to betrayal. So eat. You will need your strength."  
  
Sydney let go of his wrist and leaned back on her cot. Javier took one last look at her and left the room, the door banging behind him. Inside the cell, Sydney resigned herself to eating the weak, tasteless soup. It was better than nothing and she was starving. When the door opened again, Sydney didn't even look up.  
  
"I see you've been fed." It was Sark. "I took the liberty of shutting off the cameras so we could talk in private."  
  
Suddenly something in Sydney's mind clicked. She jumped up, her dishes clattering to the floor, and knocked Sark down.  
  
"Hello to you, too, Sydney."  
  
"You son of a bitch. You told them about me."  
  
"Is that why you're in this cell? Well I can assure you, I did not reveal your identity to anyone. Although I myself wondered what you were doing here. You cannot possibly remember nothing of those two years."  
  
"You'd better believe it. Well, if you didn't tell them, who did?"  
  
"I have no idea, but I will help you find out."  
  
Sydney smirked and sat back on her heels, still straddling Sark. "Yeah, and if I'm locked in here, how am I supposed to do anything."  
  
"That's what I came in here for. If you would get off of me so that I could sit up, I would tell you."  
  
Sydney reluctantly got up and sat on her cot. "OK, so what?"  
  
"Patience, Ms. Bristow, is a virtue. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?" He smirked and looked around the cell. "Lovely place you've got here."  
  
"Spit it out Sark."  
  
He looked at her. "Well then, if I must." He leaned against the wall, the perfect image of casualness. "If you absolutely must now, I intend to get you out of here."  
  
Sydney laughed. "Yeah, right. After all we've been through, you're gonna help me. Sure."  
  
"In all seriousness Sydney, please believe what I say."  
  
"All right," Sydney cocked her head. "What's the catch?"  
  
Sark was heading towards the door. "There is one thing," he said, turning around. Sydney waited. "You would have to work with your mother."  
  
Sark left the room, leaving a very confused and bewildered Sydney Bristow with a lot to think about.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	2. Decisions

A/N: Thanks for the encouragement, you guys are great. I want to thank my friend Katie for putting up with all of my Alias talk (which is A LOT) even though she detests blood and will hate that there is some in this chapter (haha!). And of course, thanks to my betas, you guys are also really great!!   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Faith, is not something that I grasp  
  
It's something that I fake  
  
As I'm slipping,  
  
As I'm falling through the cracks  
  
Faith, without action is a mask  
  
For making some mistakes  
  
As I'm slipping  
  
As I'm falling through the cracks  
  
But somehow I find beauty in our failings  
  
Somehow I find meaning in this life  
  
Somehow I made perfect in this fracture  
  
Your back is begging sweetly for my knives.  
  
~Thrice, Betrayal is a Symptom~  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter 2: Decisions  
  
Sydney tried to sleep but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was images of Vaughn being shot. The metal of her cot was cold and Sydney was glad that her clothes actually covered most of her skin. So instead of sleeping, she lay on her back and just stared at the ceiling, thoughts running through her mind. The most important being how she had been betrayed. But why Sark wanted to get her out of here was another thought that wouldn't leave Sydney alone. He had no reason to, and yet he still offered. The fact that he was working with her mother worried her, though. The CIA had no idea where Irina had been for over 2 years and the fact that Sark could find her after only being out of custody for a little over a month told her that he was in deep. Sydney wondered just how deep she would have to go if she accepted his offer of help.  
  
But her thoughts were interrupted as the door was opened again. Hoping for more food, Sydney was disappointed when Simon came in, no food in sight.   
  
"Hello, Sydney," he said, closing the door behind him and putting extra emphasis on her name. "How are we today?"  
  
Sydney noticed that he seemed angry about something and decided to push his buttons. "What's the matter now, Simon? Did another one of your precious lackeys betray you?"  
  
He crossed over to her cot and punched her, his fist stinging the side of her face as she felt blood in her mouth. Sydney flinched but didn't show any more pain, she had been taught to compartmentalize things like pain.   
  
"No, Sydney. You're the only one who has an unlucky future heading towards them."  
  
"I take it you're going to kill me then?"  
  
"Yes. But that comes later. First, we want information."  
  
Sydney spat blood out onto the floor, narrowly missing his shiny black shoes. Simon grinned.  
  
"Pity. It seems your aim's off, Ms. Bristow."  
  
She grinned back. And then spat in his face. Simon's grin disappeared while her's widened. He slowly reached a hand up to wipe the blood off of his nose and cheek.  
  
"Fine. If you want it that way, I'll leave you here and come back later."  
  
"Too chicken to torture me yourself, are we Si?" She tilted her head, still grinning.  
  
"Oh, I just don't want any blood on my nice suit. But someone else will be coming in to do the job for me. Have fun Bristow."   
  
And with that, Simon slammed the door behind him and Sydney's grin disappeared. Sure, it was fun messing with him, but she wasn't so sure that he was kidding about the torture part. But she didn't have long to wait. No more than 5 minutes later, the steel door opened and she was once again greeted by the infamous Sark smirk.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jack Bristow stared at his desk. It had been exactly 12 hours, 14 minutes and 32 seconds since Sydney had been scheduled to check in. It wasn't like him to worry often, but he did have a soft spot for his daughter, and he knew that she was never late for anything. Punctuality, that was what Sydney strived for. And now, Jack knew that something was wrong. But nothing he did helped; he had already expressed his concerns to Dixon, but that had been 6 hours ago and the director had been sure that there was just a technical problem. But Jack knew Marshall, and nothing he made ever, ever, had a problem. So he knew that that wasn't the case. No, something was the matter with Sydney. And he had to help.  
  
Searching for his key, Jack unlocked the thin drawer in his desk and took out the cell phone that he never used. Pressing re-dial, he put the phone to his ear and listened to the ringing, glancing around the room to be sure that no one was about to come into his office. Then someone picked up on the other end.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I need your help."  
  
"With Sydney, I presume?"  
  
"Of course. She missed her check-in, and I want her back."  
  
"Don't worry, Jack. I already have someone working on it. But I can't guarantee that she'll come back to you. She has to choose her own path, you know."  
  
"I know, you don't have to remind me. Just get her out of the hands of whoever has her. Contact me when you've extracted her and I'll come find you."  
  
"I'll make sure she gets out. That's all I can promise."  
  
Jack hung up. He didn't like what he had to do, but he did have to do it. After all, he was Jack Bristow. And Jack Bristow got what he wanted. Always.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Well, hello again Sydney."  
  
"You know, I've been thinking Sark," she grinned and he closed the door.  
  
"And what have you been thinking about?" Seeing her glance around the room he added, "I have rerouted the feed again. You don't believe that I'm that incapable do you?"  
  
"Of course not." Sydney tried on a smirk of her own. "I've been thinking about the fact that you seem to be on a first name basis with me. And I don't think it's fair that you know my first name, but I do not have the honor, or shall we say privilege, of knowing yours."  
  
"Ah well, that will have to wait for later. Right now I'm supposed to be torturing you." Sark sat down on the only stool in the room and leaned backwards against the wall.   
  
"You don't look like you're here to torture, Sark. Instead, if I were that naïve, I would think that you'd come here for a nice civilized chat."  
  
"But of course, Sydney, love. What else would I have come for?" He smiled. "Do you have an answer to my question?"  
  
Sydney closed her eyes, a million ideas running through her head at once. Simon's serious gaze had unnerved her, she was fairly sure now that he would kill her, after torturing everything out of her first of course. And it didn't seem as if the CIA could get her out of this one. She always knew a day like this would come; when she would have to decide between the life she knew and a new one. But now the truth was, she didn't have a life she knew anymore. Her memories were all two years old and so much had changed since then. Almost everything, in fact. Realizing she had nothing to lose, Sydney opened her eyes and glanced at Sark. He was waiting patiently, still leaning against the wall.  
  
"Yes," she whispered, so soft he couldn't even hear her.  
  
Sark stood up and walked close to her and knelt down. "What?"  
  
"Yes," Sydney said louder, more sure of himself. "Yes, I'll do it. I'll come and work with you."  
  
"I'm glad that that's the decision you've made, Sydney. I'll devise a plan to get you out of here, sometime soon. Now," he paused. "Since I'm supposed to be torturing you..." Sark left his sentence unfinished.  
  
"I understand; you have to make it seem real. Just try to make it hurt too much, would ya?" She smiled grimly.  
  
Sark took a moment to compose himself while Sydney waited. Then his fist lashed out, catching her eye. Sydney fell backwards onto the cot and vaguely heard the door shut. He was gone. And Sydney couldn't help but think that her freedom was walking out the door with him. 


	3. Escape

A/N: Thanks for the encouragement you guys! And thanks to my betas for loving this so much that they don't ever want to change anything (hehe). Oh, and when I finish this I will be making a soundtrack for all of y'all. It'll most likely just be the songs that I put at the beginning of each chapter, I already have tons of lyrics that are perfect!! Anyway, enough of my babbling, here's Chapter 3.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Don't give up the fight to stay alive and even if you have to  
  
Find the reason of another's pain if they lose you  
  
If not for yourself then those around who care like I do  
  
One day you'll see the clear blue  
  
Beyond the gray sky  
  
~311, Beyond the Gray Sky~  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter 3: Escape  
  
Her shoulder hurt. Sydney wished that someone would come and give her morphine, a painkiller, something. The metal cot she was lying on definitely didn't help her situation. This cell reminded her all too much of the CIA cell her mother and Sark had been in for so long, without the glass. She only hoped that she wouldn't be here as long as those two had been in the CIA's possession.  
  
Thinking of Sark brought her back to her thoughts before Simon had come in earlier. But Sydney knew that at the moment she would find no reasons for Sark's offer of escape. So she resigned herself to sitting on her cot and resting her bruised eye.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jack Bristow walked calmly through the halls of the JTF, the form clutched in his hand. Pausing at the door of Dixon's office, he took a deep breath and made up his mind, knocking on the door.  
  
20 minutes later he walked out again. It surprisingly hadn't taken him that long to convince Dixon of his decision. The man had listened carefully to Jack and, seeing the resolution in his eyes, had put his signature on the form and shook his hand, saying that he would be missed. Dixon's reaction only deepened the respect Jack had for that man.   
  
And now he was back at his apartment, his furniture put in storage and his things packed. All that was left to do was hand over his keys. His cell phone rang while he was waiting for the taxi.  
  
"Bristow."  
  
"Jack. We expect to have her out in less than 8 hours."  
  
"Good. I hope to be there by then."  
  
"OK. Contact me when you arrive. You have the number, correct?"  
  
"Yes. I do. I'll see you soon."  
  
He hung up abruptly, hearing the honk of his waiting taxi. And Jack Bristow walked out of his apartment, locking the door behind him and putting his keys on the hook. He walked out of his apartment with no intention of ever coming back to Los Angeles. To the CIA. To his life. And he never once looked back.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sydney glanced up sharply as she heard gunshots outside her cell. She had just gotten to sleep after hours of thinking, and she was tired. Wondering what was going on, Sydney got up and walked towards the door, but jumped back just in time as it swung open, narrowly missing hitting her. Sark ran in, his blonde hair tousled and blood staining his white shirt, coming from a gash in his chest.  
  
Sydney stepped forward. "Are you all right?"  
  
Sark glanced down as if just realizing that he had been injured. "Oh," he replied vaguely, "yes, I'm fine. Just a scratch from dear old Simon there. Pity he got away before I could pay him back."  
  
Sydney smiled grimly. "I assume this is when you're getting me out? Thanks for the advanced notice."  
  
Sark smirked. "Yes, well it was rather sudden for me, also. Your mother is full of surprises, Sydney. But I assume that you knew that by now."  
  
She dismissed his comments on her mother and brushed past him and out of the door. When he didn't follow she turned around.   
  
"Well? Are we going or not?"  
  
He shook his head as if in a daze. "Yes, of course. Let's go."  
  
And Sydney followed him out of the warehouse and into the sunlight. She reveled in it, before climbing into a waiting car after Sark, never once looking back.  
  
Sydney's mind vaguely registered a third person in the car before a needle was jabbed into her neck.  
  
She glanced at Sark, who still held a syringe, her vision blurry. "Why?"   
  
He simply looked at her. And Sydney's last vision was of a familiar face hovering over hers. And a voice.   
  
"Welcome back, darling."  
  
And then everything went black.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
TBC... 


	4. Trust

A/N: I know it's been forever but I've just been so caught up in other fics, the holidays, and now school again. But I was bored in English on Friday after I finished Huckleberry Finn so I started to write this. Hope you enjoy and thanks to my betas: Mrs. Curls, jillybug03, and GabsHardy!!!!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
I can see your inner motive  
  
when you wear it on your face  
  
Indisposed to the world  
  
You won't let yourself be saved  
  
~Revis, Spin~  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter 4: Trust  
  
Sydney woke up in a spacious bedroom. It was blue with white trim, and she was lying in a huge, fluffy, white bed.  
  
She got up, her head spinning, to find that she was wearing pajamas, not the black clothes she had been imprisoned in. Who changed me? she wondered. And how long have I been here?  
  
Sydney tried to open one of the three doors in the room to find it locked. She moved on to another and found a huge marble bathroom. Opening the cabinets, she discovered that they were stocked full with soap, shampoo, make-up, lotion, and everything else that she could ever need.  
  
She left the bathroom to open the last door and found a walk-in closet filled with clothes, all in her size. Grabbing a pair of jeans, a tank top, and some underwear, she walked back to the bathroom, intending to take a hot shower.  
  
Thirty minutes later she walked out of the bathroom, her hair still dripping, but feeling refreshed and awake. Just as she was wondering what she should do now, there was a knock on the door and Sark entered the room.  
  
"Hello, Sark. Lovely to see you again," she spat immediately. "You owe me for this bruise on my face." She touched her cheek at the spot of the now-fading mark.  
  
He smirked and put his hands in the pockets of his suit. "Well at least I didn't leave a scar. Unlike some people who happen to be standing in front of me."  
  
She laughed and sat down on the couch. "Don't tell me you're still mad about that ice pick!"  
  
"Scars never fade." His smirk was gone and he took his hands out, beckoning to her. "Come with me, Miss Bristow."  
  
She got up and grumbled as she followed him out of the room. "What, no please?"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sark led her to the kitchen, where he poured two glasses of water and sat down across from her at the wooden table. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Sydney spoke.  
  
"So are we just going to sit here all day?"  
  
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Of course not, Sydney. We're waiting for someone."  
  
She grimaced and stared at her empty glass. "My mother, right?"  
  
"Yes," he simply stated. A few more moments passed before he got up and went to the counter, where there was a small stereo. Pressing the ON button, he came back to the table and sat down again.  
  
Rock music blasted out of the speakers. Sydney recognized it as the new Linkin Park song.   
  
"Is this 'Numb'?" she yelled over the sound. Sark nodded, tapping his foot against the floor and looked as though at any minute he would start singing along.  
  
Sydney started giggling to herself and then started laughing. A real laugh. It felt weird, since she hadn't laughed in days. Weeks, actually. Sark looked at her questioningly.  
  
"Would you care to share the joke, Miss Bristow?" he half-shouted.  
  
She grinned. "I just never thought of you as a clean grunge kind of guy. Maybe some classical music, but Linkin Park?" She smiled.   
  
Sark opened his mouth to say something but closed it when the music was unexpectedly turned off. The two whirled around to see the stereo and the person standing next to it.  
  
"Mom."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Four people now sat at the kitchen table. Father and daughter stared at each other, neither blinking.  
  
"I still don't understand what you're doing here Dad."  
  
"Neither do I. But you can't go back to the CIA, Sydney. They know you killed Lazarey and will take you into custody."  
  
Sark's eyes widened and he let out a low gasp, not unnoticed by anyone at the table. Sydney turned to look at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You killed Lazarey?"  
  
Irina sighed. "I knew this would come out sometime."  
  
Sark turned to her. "You knew, too?"  
  
"Wait," Sydney shook her head. "What's going on here? Did you know Lazarey?"  
  
Sark wiped a hand down his face. "He was my father." He got up and stormed out of the room. Sydney started to follow him but her mother held her back.  
  
"Give him time, Sydney. Give him time."  
  
"Yeah, I know, 'cause 'truth takes time' right Mom?" She snorted. "Well I don't believe in that little philosophy anymore." And Sydney ran out of the room after Sark. 


End file.
